Therapy

Pushing yourself physically can be a surprisingly emotional experience.  I say this from experience, because I cry at the gym with frightening regularity.  

Yes, it's embarrassing.  

Yes, it makes me feel awkward.  

Yes, I really really really 

hate crying in front of people.  

But sometimes I just can't hold it in.  When the emotions are there, bubbling right under the surface, I have to let them out...whether its joy, despair, anger, frustration, pride, etc.  I feel like if I keep it in I will seriously explode.

*** Side note: dear God, someone give my trainer a raise for all of my emotional issues that he has to deal with.  Seriously...whatever he makes is not enough.***

Imagine you've spent your life encased in a distancing, isolating, and in that way "safe" suit of armor.  Now, imagine your armor is gone.  Or in my case, partially gone and receeding more and more each day.

Part of you is glad to be rid of it!  It restricted your movements.  It prevented you from doing things.  It isolated you and made you uncomfortable.

But it was also safe in there.

And it's terrifying to not have it any more.

It can make you feel vulnerable to attack and exposed to everyone and small and meek and uncomfortable.

IF you let it.

And it's really, really hard not to let it make you feel that way, at least at first.

This is part of what I'm going through right now.  When you spend your entire adult life and most of your childhood being of above-average size, you don't know how to function differently.  You are used to negative comments or no comments being made about your body and appearance.  So, as nice as it is to hear compliments about your body, it may make you start to feel all of the above mentioned, unpleasant things (especially coming from people you don't know all that well). 

Even though you weren't strong before you started this process (at least, not as strong as you are now), you somehow feel weaker without your armor (as happy as you are to be shedding it).

Like I said, it's really hard not to get sucked into this mental trap of feeling weak or like a victim.

You know what helps?  What will make you feel stronger and empowered and fierce and like a bad-ass and like you could cut any mofo who tried to hurt you now that you don't have your armor?

Lifting heavy things.

Using muscles that you previously neglected.  

Sweating your face off.

Jumping onto tall things because you couldn't before.

Slamming things on the ground.

Throwing heavy things into the air.

Punching stuff (with boxing gloves on, of course, and only when invited to do so...don't just randomly start punching stuff, please).

Sometimes, doing this stuff is the absolute best medicine.

Yesterday morning, I went into the gym in a foul mood.  After making an ass of myself, crying all over my trainer for like the dozenth time, and having a short but revealing conversation, it was time to work out.

I felt like absolute crap.  And I really, really didn't want to be there.

30 minutes later, I felt amazing.  I was tired, red, sweaty, and sore.  But my mind was clear and my spirit was lifted and I was ready to seize the rest of my day.

I'm not saying that working out can or will fix all of your problems.  Thats overly simplistic and just not a realistic expectation.  

What I am saying is that, for me, moving my body helps me work through tricky situations, get over things that happened to me earlier in the day, clears my mind, makes my heart happy, and improves my mood immensely. 

You should give it a whirl. 

Getting compliments and insults at the same time is so very unpleasant and awkward

So.  I am starting to feel weirdly naked.  Even when fully dressed.  I feel exposed and vulnerable and it's bizarre.  Eventually, I think it will be liberating and freeing, but I'm not quite there yet.

I've shed a small portion of my fat suit of armor and I feel like a naked little baby animal, all new and awkward and exposed.

"Hey everybody!  Come see how naked I am!"

I'm not deluded.  I know that I have a lot of "armor" to go before it's completely shed.  Trust me, my eyesight is fine.

It's challenging, however, make this transformation.  It's bizarre to go from being viewed negatively to viewed negatively AND positively simultaneously.  When you're fat, people view you as one of a few things:

1) Invisible

2) Disgusting

3) Someone to be pitied

4) Asexual

5) Lazy/Slovenly

Think I'm kidding?  Do a google search for the phrase "fat people are."  It will auto-fill with some horrible things.  Even worse is if you just search for the phrase "fat people."  You don't even need to hit "enter," the auto-fill suggestions are bad enough.  Go ahead.  I'll wait.

After awhile, you get used to being seen this way.  That doesn't make it okay, but it does make it routine.  The people who shout horrible things at you still hurt, but they no longer surprise you.  In fact, it surprises you when you can walk down the street without getting judgemental looks or words hurled at you.

During the weight loss process, you are in limbo.

Strangers still play Judgey-McJudgerson; staring at you, peering into your grocery cart (and being shocked that a fat girl is buying organic chicken, almond milk, and veggies instead of Cheetos and two-liter bottles of Coca-Cola), laughing, taking pictures of you on their phones (we see you, by the way), shouting things at you from their cars or porches, offering unsolicited weight loss advice, telling you that you could be pretty if you lost a few pounds, etc.  It's the same old crap.  Because to them, you're still a slovenly, disgusting fatty.  Because they can't see your beautiful heart and whip-smart mind and loyalty and revolting sense of humor.  You're just an anonymous fat girl, and must therefore be harassed and verbally abused and "helped" immediately. It's their duty!

On the other hand, people who know you tell you that you're motivating them.  They tell you you're an inspiration, they're proud of you, and that they look up to you.  This is really flattering and nice and SO AWKWARD AND UNCOMFORTABLE because you have no idea how to process people saying nice things about your appearance other than your parents (obligated by blood or adoption paperwork to think you're beautiful), sibs (obligated by years of torment as children to think you're beautiful), and spouse (who you somehow duped into thinking that you're beautiful - probably with sex and amazing cooking skills.  Sucker).  

And you want to say thank you but it feels awkward to accept compliments because you're not that used to them.  Then you feel like a giant tool for awkwardly smiling and saying "uh...thanks" because you have no idea how to process this without turning it around and finding a way to focus the attention elsewhere.  

And it's so goddamn nice to hear nice things about the way you look that it makes you mad at yourself and feel a little less like a feminist for being so happy that somebody praised your appearance (even though the people who know you are praising not only that, but your dedication and hard work as well).  And it's so nice to hear that you kind of want to cry, and that makes you feel even MORE awkward because you cry all the time as it is and that makes other people feel uncomfortable which makes you feel EVEN MORE FRICKIN AWKWARD, if that's possible.

Have I mentioned how awkward I am?

It kind of makes you want to make business cards with pictures of your formerly fatter self on them that say "FUCK YOU, I AM IN THE PROCESS OF BETTERING MYSELF, ASSHATS.  What have you done to improve yourself today?  NOTHING." to hand out to mean strangers.

But that would be mean, and it's not polite to call people names.

Even if they are asshats.

It's challenging to have this evolving vision of yourself while being viewed in two completely different ways based on your physical appearance by those who know you and those who don't.  Also, you are used to having a fat suit of armor on to keep observations and judgement away from your fragile little heart.  And as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, the armor is melting away and you feel naked and weird.

And awkward.

If I didn't say that already.